The Professor in the Corner
I The classroom smelled of old paper and floor wax. Twenty students sat in the front rows, their notebooks open, their pens poised. I stood at the back of the room, leaning against the wall, because that was where I always stood. Sitting made me look like I cared, and I didn't want them to think that. "Professor Johnson," said a voice from the third row. "You said last week that sociology had...
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